Chapter 19
Sabastian
A small smile lifted the corner of my lips. I knew exactly where Oakley was. His toes had been sticking out, despite his best efforts. But even then, his small whimpers weren’t helping him, either.
I wished I could read his mind, but that’d mean he’d actually have to look at me for me to do so.
So, instead, I played his game. I could wait him out. Forcing him to talk about what was going on wasn’t going to work for many reasons. He needed space, and I’d happily give it to him. But that didn’t mean I was going to leave him totally alone.
Taking more time than needed, I rearranged the bedroom, washed the blankets, dusted, and set out some toys. I hoped the stuffed animals would entice him out of hiding.
I talked about random things, knowing he’d be at least listening. I talked about things that he could help change in the room. I rambled about how the stuffed animals needed a friend.
There were moments of quiet, too. There hadn’t been noises from the closet, but he was still in there. I’d check often, seeing his toes under the bean bag.
I ended up putting all the books back on the shelf in my room because this room would become Oakley’s safe spot. Who knows if he’d be willing to use it, but I’d offer it to him.
After the phone call with my brother, who was doing a horrible job on his own sorting some products at a warehouse across town, I made my way back to the room, not empty-handed.
Oakley had to be starving since he didn’t exactly eat breakfast, and it was past lunch. It was closer to dinner, and the boy hadn’t once come out for anything.
Back in the room, I took note that the paci was gone, and felt a small bit of relief. That was his choice, one that only he could take.
I wanted to offer him so much more. The entire world, if he’d let me. But for now, I’d take the small win. Small wins were bigger and more meaningful anyway.
Sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed, legs stretched out in front of me, I opened the book to the first page.
I couldn’t begin to guess where Oakley had left off, or if he even really started reading this one. It was a good book, though. Full of adventure and make-believe. Perfect for a younger audience, but written in a way for adults not to be put off by the childish ways.
The cup of water sat beside me, almost under the bed and hidden from his view. That was if he’d even come out.
I knew that offering him food or anything for that matter, wouldn’t entice the boy to come out. So, I’d read aloud and waited.
It took halfway through the second chapter when he slowly peeked out from around the closet door. I kept my eyes on the book, trying and most likely failing at keeping them there.
Oakley, sad and defeated, looked at me.
He really was like an abused animal. One that wanted to be loved, but scared to try to accept it.
That was okay. I had plenty of time to earn his trust. One day at a time. One hour at a time.
I continued to read, turning page after page, while Oakley decided what he was going to do.
Eventually, he crawled on hands and knees, paci in his mouth, towards me. When he was inches away, he sat, knees pulled to his chest, head resting atop them. He didn’t look at me, but this was a start.
Giving him time to settle, I didn’t draw attention to him. I kept reading. I did, though, take the cup and put it on the other side of me, closer to him. The lid had a sprout, hoping it’d alone get him to try it.
Slowly, as I finished up the third chapter, Oakley began to drink from the cup, sucking on the tip like he’d done it a million times before.
At the end of the chapter, I bent the page at the top, before shutting it. It was then that Oakley’s eyes widened before they bounced back to the closet.
“No more hiding today, little one,” I spoke as softly as I could. “We are going to get some food, then a bath, then I’ll tend to those bite marks.”
My eyes landed on his arm, where his teeth bit deep in too many places. But as I talked, his head began to shake back and forth too quickly, like he was fighting his thoughts, or maybe one of the ideas I had pointed out.
“Settle,” I soothed, laying a hand on his head. Instantly, he stopped moving, holding his breath for a long second before it came whooshing out. “Although you are in trouble, there won’t be any pain tonight. No punishments. Not until we talk. And you aren’t in the right headspace for that.”
His shoulders slumped, but he didn’t pull away from my touch.
Oakley wasn’t in an adult frame of mind and hadn’t been since he woke up today.
Whatever happened last night messed him up.
I wanted to find out why, but I wasn’t going to get any answers.
Not when he freaked out about something so simple.
“Sandwiches. Something easy, I think. But,” I paused, moving my hand from his hair. He went to follow the motion but stopped just in time before he fell into me. “Milk or apple juice?”
His eyes squinted, either in thought or confusion. “I don’t want the answer you think I want. Which one, little one? Milk or apple juice?”
All he managed was to suck on the paci harder, his face paling.
We’d have to work on him making some choices, I thought.
“You’ll have until I finish making up the sandwiches to decide. If you don’t-“
“Juice,” he started quickly before I could finish.
“Good boy, thank you.” I touched his cheek, and he forced himself to stay still against my palm. “Very good.”
He breathed, daring to look up at me for a long second. His greenish eyes held so many thoughts, so many emotions, in that one fleeting moment. He didn’t believe that he was good.
Pulling away, I stood, regretting my choice of sitting on the floor for so long. My tailbone throbbed from the hard floor, and my knees popped as I moved.
Holding a hand out to Oakley, he looked at it for a beat before slowly just standing on his own, tucking his arms around his body.
Baby steps, I reminded myself.
“Use the bathroom, then meet me in the kitchen.” Again, the order was given quietly. I didn’t exactly want to clean up pee for a second time in eighteen hours, even though I would.
Bodily fluids weren’t bad compared to brain splatter.
The boy was quick to run to the bathroom, and I made my way downstairs. I got his cup of juice filled first, setting it on the table before I got busy with making two sandwiches. Simple turkey and cheese, a bit of mayo, and bread. I cut his into bite-sized pieces.
I highly doubted he’d eat all of it, but I’d be pleased if he could at least eat half.
“Sit where you want,” I spoke over my shoulder, putting away the cold items back into the fridge when I heard Oakley shuffle into the kitchen.
I wasn’t surprised when I turned, finding Oakley kneeling by my chair. His back was straight, arms folded across his torso, and the pacifier being sucked on.
I tilted my head, wondering if that was where Donny preferred him, or if it was just where the boy felt more comfortable. I’d ask, but it was hard enough to get answers from the boy.
Letting him stay there for the meal would have to do.
I placed both plates on the table and brought his cup of juice closer so I could reach it.
Once I was sitting, I ran a hand through his hair. His strands were a tangled mess, and a bit sweaty, but I didn’t remove my fingers from his scalp.
After a minute, his body relaxed, and I couldn’t help but move my leg over a bit so he could lean against it.
“You can’t eat with this,” I tapped his paci. While he made a displeased sound, he let me take it, popping it out of his mouth. “You can have it back in a bit. I promise.”
“Open.” I slipped a bite into his mouth.
For a few minutes, that’s how it went. I fed him bite after bite, eating my sandwich in between. He didn’t gag like this morning, thankfully. He leaned more and more against me, his body either giving up the fight of a long day, or he was content enough to let it.
When a little less than half of his food was gone, he turned his head into my leg, and I took it as a hint that he was full.
“Good boy, Oakley.” I ran my fingers along his hair again, and he sighed. With my other hand, I handed him the sippy cup, the same one he used upstairs with water.
With a shaking hand, he took it, setting it against his thighs.
“I know you don’t want to talk right now,” I started, “but we need to. You need to listen, at least.”
He nodded against me, then took a small drink.
“There are some rules that need to be followed while you are in this house,” he froze before quickly taking another drink. “No more biting yourself. If you want to hurt yourself, then you need to come to me.”
Another nod.
“When you do good,” I paused, letting my hand run across his scalp again, “you’ll get good touches. Like this. No hurt when you’re my good boy.”
Aa a touch of the starved human, he nodded quickly. “Good…..”
“Yes, a good boy. Can you do that? When I ask you something, I want your answers. Not what you think I want to hear. Like with the milk or juice. I could have picked, but you get a choice in things. So, when I ask, what do I get?”
“My answer,” he whispered.
“Good boy.” That earned him another head scratch.
“I won’t hurt you if you give me an answer I don’t like.
Punishments are for when you are naughty, like lying or hiding something, or when you are rude and disrespectful to me or anyone that comes into his house.
Would you like to know what those would be? ”
He shrugged. Was it because he didn’t know, or because he didn’t care?
“Sometimes, if you don’t obey, you’ll have to stand in a corner for a while. Or I’ll make you do a chore around the house. When you start to trust me better, and you misbehave, then there will be spankings or writing lines in a notebook.”
“I’ll be good.” His eyes lifted to mine quickly before dropping to the floor, I couldn’t see any of the thoughts he was hiding.
“You are good, Oakley. Perfect, even. But I hope that if you know what will happen, you won’t be so scared. Like last night.”
He shivered, pushing against my leg even more.
“I’ll be good.”
Feeling him starting to shut down, and not wanting him to go that deep, I patted his head gently. “Up. Bath time.”
He stood, almost putting his thumb into his mouth but stopped and glared at the wrapping before he dropped it back down.
Head down, shoulders up to his ears, he stood there, waiting for me. The sippy cup dangled in his other hand, empty. I took it, taking our plates to the sink, and got him a new cup with just water.
It would be an early night for both of us.
“Come along.”
The pacifier was back in my pocket before I led the way up the stairs. Going to the bathroom with the bigger tub, I started the water before kneeling at the sink and pulling out the soap. Baths needed bubbles, no matter how old someone was.
Oakley stood there not far away, in between the bathroom and bedroom, shaking like a leaf.
One wrong move, and he’d bolt. I could see it in the way he kept looking everywhere but at the bathtub.
Had Donny hurt him that way before?
“Oakley?”
He looked up, tears in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?
He shook his head, dropping his eyes back to the floor.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” My promise fell on deaf ears.
With a deep breath, I stood in front of him. I didn’t think any amount of words were going to get through to him. Only my actions.
Gently, I got him undressed, uncovered his thumb, and kept talking, even if he didn’t hear a single thing I said.
He wasn’t there mentally in front of me any longer. His brain had shut down, even if the tears came.
Cupping his cheek, he blinked, not moving other than breathing.
What the hell did Donny do to this sweet boy?
Grabbing his hand, I led him towards the bath. Oakley followed my orders, stepping into the soapy water, and then sitting as stiff as a board.
Once he was in, I slipped the pacifier into his mouth, then I began to wash him.
Not sure if my touch was helping him, or making it worse, I went with my instincts. I talked and told him exactly what I was doing as I washed his hair. I scrubbed gently at his scalp. I washed his back. I rinsed him off.
I wiped a cloth over his arms, taking a better look at the marks he gave himself.
I wanted to be the one that gave him pain if he needed it. I wanted to be the arms that he came crawling to when he was sad. I wanted to be his everything, and that scared me.
Four days ago, I wanted nothing to do with the boy. And now, I wanted everything with him.
How could a simple person make my heart squeeze so easily? How could I cave to my needs and wants by seeing this broken boy?
“What am I going to do?” I asked the room, not expecting answers as I finished washing Oakley off.
I never believed in love at first sight. But Oakley was different. He didn’t even have to try to worm his way into my heart, and he didn’t even know it.
I could see us together for years. I could see myself taking care of him, dotting on him, and showing him how truly amazing the world can be. But I could also see him finding his voice, finding life, and leaving to explore it without me.
And I’d let him go if that was what he’d want.
Because, despite how I found Oakley, I wasn’t a cold-hearted monster.